


To Build A Home

by Naxxerie (HotShame)



Series: Brooklyn Nine-Nine Drabble Collection [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Jake's aftermath on the drugs, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Sequel, charles boyle being an awesome best friend, drug abuse (but not too much), i guess, jake and rosa's strong friendship, rosa being an awesome friend, season 5, too much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 07:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13003149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotShame/pseuds/Naxxerie
Summary: Sequel to the first of the collection, "What Happened After". Jake is confronted with his mistakes and the pain that comes with it. He really didn't mean to take it. It's just an accident -- so why is he quick to blame himself?"I'm okay."He's not. Somebody help him.





	To Build A Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, it might be a good idea to read the first one. :) I word vomited and wrote a really angst-y Jake.

**Already Gone**

“Oh, Jake,” Amy was the first to speak. She took a big gulp to fight the tears and walked towards Jake.

Jake flinched. His eyes were wild.

“Jake,” Amy’s voice was soft, yet it still pushed Jake to the edge. Amy stilled. She doesn’t wish to scare Jake further.

_They’re all judging you, Jake._

His thoughts were running wild. The effect of the drug was still high on his system. He took in all of their faces.

_Disappointment. Pity. Anger._

Jake felt as if the room was physically suffocating him. He cannot breathe.

Being at close distant, Amy noticed it first. “Take a deep breath, Jake. One, two…” Amy kept on counting. She took a few steps towards him and kept on counting in her mellow voice. She motioned for the others to take a step back and give him room, even to their Captain.

All of the precincts’ eyes were on the both of them. It’s too bad Jake wasn’t able to see the worry in their eyes.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Jake whispered, taking up raged breathing. “I’m okay,” he wiped the tears in his eyes. Yet, he still refuses to take off his eyes from the floor.

“Jake, can I touch you, Jake?” Amy asked, her hand already making its way towards his shoulder.

Jake flinched, and Amy immediately retracted.

He sniffed and looked up. “Captain, could I—I’m suspended, am I? I would like—to go home now,” Jake said, he couldn’t believe how weak he sounded.

Holt was surprised by what he heard. Jake looked so broken. Holt doesn’t like that on his son's—

_Jake._

“Yeah, yeah, you should—that’s a good idea. Yeah, just surrender over your badge and gun,” Holt said.

Jake removed them, slowly. He felt weak, numbed.

It was hard for all of them, no one dared to speak another word.

Jake took a deep breath as he placed his badge and gun on the table. Suddenly, the memory of that time when he went undercover flashed before his mind.

_You gotta try this Jake. It’s amazing._

He shivered and swallowed back the tears. He’d done them enough show of his pathetic self.

“Can you, uhm…take care of the rest?” Jake asked his girlfriend. Fuck, are they even _still_ together?

She must’ve been so disgusted with him.

If Jake was able to see her eyes, he would’ve witnessed the overbearing love that Amy has for him.

But Jake is still too ashamed of himself. He doesn’t deserve Amy.

“Do you want me to accompany you?” Amy asked, her voice just as soft as ever.

Jake felt even more ashamed of himself. Why can’t he just be the perfect boyfriend to this amazing girl? Why can’t he control himself? Heck, he should’ve just remained in the shadows. He should’ve just remained in that fucking prison. He deserved to be there.

Jake shook his head. He lifted his bag and walked towards the elevator.

Charles ran towards him and stopped him. “Jake, do you want me—to, uhm…Take you there?”

Jake looked at Charles.

Charles was devastated on how broken he saw his best friend was. Jake’s eyes look so soulless as if the life that it once held was suddenly sucked away. He wanted to help Jake heal himself. He felt like a lousy best friend, how could he not foresee that? Why wasn’t he able to help Jake? Why didn’t he see any of this before?

Jake returned his gaze at the ground. He also didn’t deserve the sheer adoration of his best friend. Hell, he doesn't deserve his best friend.

He shook his head and walked pass Charles. He took a deep breath and close the elevator door.

 _Where you gonna stay, Jake?_ – Gina texted him.

 _You won’t return back to Amy’s, right? ­_ – a follow-up text. Jake doesn’t have enough strength to reply.

 _You can have nana’s apartment back, for a while. I'll stay at my friend’s house. You know where the key is_ – was Gina’s last text.

He doesn’t deserve her too.

 

“Jake!” he whipped his head around. That sounded too much like—

“Rosa,” he whispered as he stared at his long-time friend.

Rosa slowly drove her motorcycle beside him. Without saying another word, she threw him a motorcycle helmet. “Hop in.”

Jake stood motionless, staring at the helmet he caught by instinct. “What—“

Rosa glared at him. “Hop in or I’ll kick you so hard so you wouldn’t be able to use those legs again.”

Jake gulped and rode behind her. He didn’t dare to touch her.

Rosa looked at him. “Do you want to fall to death?”

He shook his head. It was a well-known fact that Rosa drove dangerously. He hesitated.

Rosa shook her head and started the motorcycle, running it at an incredible speed. Jake was forced to hold on to her waist.

Rosa smiled. And drove all the way to her apartment.

 

When they stopped, Jake was the first to speak. “Why here?”

Rosa turned the ignition off and took her keys out to open her apartment. “Where else do you think I’m taking you?” There’s an amused smile on her lips.

Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. A dump maybe?”

“You think I’m planning to kill you?” Rosa asked as she opened the door.

“Well, I guess you can still do it in inside,” Jake said as he walked inside.

Rosa closed the door. “I’m not planning to kill you, Jake. This is the late-due talk we should have the night after our welcome home party,” she said as she prepared her only two glass champagne. “Want to order pizza?” she asked him, handing him a phone.

“Okay,” Jake said.

After ten minutes, both detectives were currently lounging on the television watching some crap mystery TV drama.

Jake was silent.

Rosa sighed. He was _never_ this silent. She took the remote and closed the TV.

Jake eyes remained on the TV, dazed. He didn’t even notice that it was turned off.

“Jake,” Rosa called out.

Jake rattled out of his rattled reverie. He closed his eyes and turned his gaze to the coffee table, avoiding eye contact.

“Have you talked with Amy yet?” she asked.

Rosa took his silence as a no. “It’s been three days. She’s worried sick, you know. Where have you been staying?”

“Gina’s.”

“She gave you that apartment back?”

“No, just…for a week, I suppose,” Jake answered, shrugging.

Rosa looked back at Jake. There are only quite a few times she saw him like this. The first was back in their academic days when Jake broke up with his secret boyfriend – his first relationship. The second time was when he realized his father is not attending his academy graduation. And the third was when Amy got in a relationship with Teddy.

Each time, it’s so painful to see him like this – not his usual lively self.

She isn’t used to this.

Based on her previous encounter with this side of Jake, it isn’t wise to ask him directly. So, Rosa used her tactic and opened up first.

“I was invited to become part of a gang, you know. But I refused when I saw them beating a woman for no purpose. I was thrown into isolation after I fought all of them,” Rosa smirked as she remembered that time when she let out her frustration of being forced to talk to that Hawkins to those gang members.

_Stop, please. Urgh, I’m freaking bleeding, and she’s not even holding a knife for fuck’s sake!_

_Diaz! Stop—stop! Somebody restrain her! What are you all doing just standing right there?!_

“I had to look up that woman’s sibling. Promised to meet after my release,” Rosa said, explaining why she said no to Jake that night. She wished she didn’t, though, maybe she’ll have prevented this.

Maybe.

What happened to him, though?

And because she’s Rosa, “What happened to you? How’d you get into meth?”

Jake flinched.

Rosa cursed herself. Sometimes, she cursed herself for being that straightforward.

“I—I was—I was finding something about this dude called Romero. The warden asked me to snitch. I didn’t know there was meth in those soaps, I accidentally used and thus intake one.” Jake said.

Rosa nodded. “And you couldn’t stop.”

Jake nodded. It’s the truth. He tried to control himself for a week. But the drawback was too damn strong, and he started taking small dosages back in the precinct. It was shameful of him to do so, he knew. But he can’t help himself.

He can’t control himself.

“It wasn’t my first time, though.” He added. He didn’t know where he suddenly pulled that courage to speak, but—he just started talking. “Back when I was undercover in the mafia, I had to take one to make me look…less like a good cop.”

Rosa nodded but remained silent.

“Back then, it was in a very tiny dosage and I was able to force myself to stop.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Rosa asked, her eyes remained on Jake, observing him.

Jake was showing sign of his anxiousness: his right leg was constantly bouncing, and his hands kept on fidgeting like he didn’t know where to place them.

 _I don’t want to be a burden._ Jake meant to say.

“It’s quite late. I have to get home,” he said instead. He stood up and walked towards the door.

“No one’s blaming you, Jake,” Rosa said as she watched him go. “We’re all here for you.”

Jake laughed and gave her a brief smile. “Thanks, Rosa.”

 

_Take a deep breath, Rosa. You can do this._

_I’m okay. T-thanks, Jake._

_Jake. Boyle’s coming to visit._ – Jake’s phone lit up the following night.

 _I already told him no. But he wouldn’t listen._ – Gina added.

 _Don’t be too harsh on the ol’ guy._ – she texted last.

Jake couldn’t…for the life of him, remember why Gina consecutively has to reply in three texts.

Nevertheless, the panic surged through him.

He just rolled up and prepared his nightly dosage of meth that he newly bought at one of his contacts right after his visit at Rosa’s. The talk with Rosa brought up a few memories of him with the mafia, and the time he held Rosa’s hands and calmed her down.

But above all else, all of those times when he sneaked into the precinct’s evidence room and stole all small dosages of meth to avoid suspicion.

He smacked his head. Why didn’t he just steal that meth back at that evidence room?!

Nevertheless, he had to quickly clean up his mess. “Shit.”

He quickly packed his lined drag, took the pill bottle and quickly hid it beneath his bedroom. It was an obvious place to hide, but his mind isn’t fully working on its full capacity and –

The doorbell rang.

Jake could feel his heart hammering against its cage. He has to answer the door, but his eyes were still wild, he still doesn’t feel _normal._ Urgh!

Jake screamed in frustration.

“Jake?” he heard Charles’s voice from downstairs. Then another knock.

Jake’s eyes quickly roamed around the place. Was there still an evidence of what’s he’s doing earlier?

He took a quick—Fuck. The smell!

But if he suddenly sprayed some freshener, Boyle would suspect. Granted, Boyle isn’t as smart as he is – fuck you, Jake! He’s still a detective.

Okay, relax. “Uh—wait a sec, Charles!” he screamed over.

That’s even _more_ suspicious!

Jake’s mind is reeling with options. He has to decide fast.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He kept murmuring. He’s currently running around his room in circles.

“Jake?”

Jake turned his head around. There stood Charles, in his living room. “Jake, what’s going on?”

“How’d you get in?” he asked, eyes wide with suspicion and mistrust.

Charles took a step back as if Jake’s mistrust eyes physically pushed him back. “I—uh, I nitpick?” he took up his right hand, which held his nitpicker.

Jake nodded. He suddenly felt his knees go weak. His heart is still rapidly rampaging in his ribs, but his mind was now blank. He felt exhausted.

Charles guided him to the sofa. He pointedly refused to look at Jake’s living room table.

“How are you, Jake?” Charles suddenly felt how stupid that question was.

“What a stupid question, Boyle,” Jake said, laughing half-heartedly.

Charles smiled, happy to hear Jake’s laugh, even if it felt a bit forced.

Jake’s glazed eyes look beyond Charles and to the door as if expecting someone to come over. “Where’s Amy?”

“Uhm,” Charles bit his lip, trying to form the words carefully. “She’s not coming.”

Jake remained silent.

“She’s not avoiding you!” Charles quickly said. “Well, she is. She just felt like she would make the matter worse. You did flinch when she tried to touch you.”

Jake remembered that moment back at the precinct. “Is she—with someone?”

Charles furrowed his eyebrow. He looked taken aback by the question. “Jake, how could you think of that? Amy loves you so much. She’s hurting, just the same as you are.”

_How selfish of you, Jake. Thinking only about yourself, again._

“Jake, tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you,” Charles said, opening himself to him. He opened his arms wide, inviting him to a hug.

Jake shook his head and looked the other way. “I’m okay, Charles. I’m okay.” He repeated like a mantra.

“Is that why you kept taking meth?” Charles said, motioning at some drug left at the table.

“I’m not taking meth,” Jake said. He knew it’s useless to deny the truth. But he did it anyway.

“Stop doing this to yourself, Jake. Talk to me, talk to Rosa, to Amy, hell even to captain Holt! We are all willing to listen.” Charles said. He stood up and began walking around, waving his arms as he went. Damnit, he could feel his hair turning white again.

_And start bothering them._

“I’m okay, Charles. Yes, I took meth. But only in a very small dosage. I’m healing, Charles. I’m beginning to regain control,” Jake lied.

Charles’s eyes softened. And Jake swallowed the lump in his throat.

_You just lied to your best friend._

“Okay. But always know this Jake. I’m here. We’re all here for you,” Charles said. He sat down and hugged him. He patted him in the back, the same way he does for him when he’s upset.

Jake could feel the tears burning at the corner of his eyes. God help him. “Okay.”

Charles smiled. He stood up and brushed his knees. He went to the kitchen and took a damp towel and started wiping the table with it.

Charles was crying. But there’s a hopeful smile on his face.

“You could do this, Jake. I believe in you,” he said, before hugging him again. “You’ll get through this.”

Jake couldn’t look at him in the eye. He nodded.

Charles cleaned the towel and walked back to the door. “Goodbye, Jake. Take care.”

“Thank you.” Jake didn’t even stand up from the sofa. He heard the soft click of the door.

And he broke down crying.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a part two to this. (just felt a bit tired after writing all of this on one sitting. so I'm taking a short break. hopefully be able to post tomorrow or later this day.)


End file.
